


Time will find us utterly destroyed

by siderokardias



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: BAMF Raquel Murillo, DRAMAtical Lesbians, F/F, F/M, Implied Past non-con recording of sexual activity, Multi, Past Domestic Violence, Zaragoza (Labordeta noises), slight PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24077539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siderokardias/pseuds/siderokardias
Summary: As she curses the double standards that are undoubtedly going to determine her future in the Force, Raquel hears the unmistakable sound of heels tapping closer. She looks up, curious. It’s not like she’s wearing flats, but coming to the first day at the Félix Jodra with what appear to be stilettos? That takes some balls.This is the first time Raquel Murillo sees Alicia Sierra.Or; two completely different first meetings, old friendships and how to break them.
Relationships: (it's complicated) - Relationship, Raquel Murillo & Alicia Sierra, Raquel Murillo/Alicia Sierra, Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 16
Kudos: 55





	Time will find us utterly destroyed

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Que el tiempo nos encuentre destrozadas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046471) by [siderokardias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siderokardias/pseuds/siderokardias). 



> My writing process was fueled by Najwa Nimri saying Ralicia rights and my rage at what the writing team did to Raquel in the last two seasons (hopefully that'll change in the 5th). Half of the Serquel couple fights were totally unnecessary and that's it. 
> 
> Lastly, in my headcanon Alicia Sierra is maña (that is, from Zaragoza). Is that detail relevant to the fic? Not really, but I'll die on that hill.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the fic.

_But be quick! And then, together entwined,_

_with love broken mouths and frayed souls_

_time will find us utterly destroyed._

– Federico García Lorca; Sonnets of Dark Love, Sonnet of the Garland of Roses

_It’s true, the polygraph doesn’t lie. You and I, Chelo, and I love you… and I am very sorry that I’m not into women because I would have been happier, we have shared a night of love._

– Bárbara Rey; Sálvame Deluxe

  
  


Raquel takes the pencil case out of her bag with parsimony, trying to calm down. The class is steeped in the smell of chemical disinfectants. It doesn’t displease her that much, but it doesn’t help her stop feeling out of place in the least. She begins to line the pens up on the table with a greater deal of focus than what is required. Every sound the door makes when another candidate comes in makes her heart skip a beat.

At least she is in the best seat of the class. Second row, the second table from the window. The perfect amount of sunlight and the perfect distance with the teacher’s table, both to listen to the lessons and to avoid being the first option to answer any possible questions. _Thank God the interviewer warned me about the importance of punctuality about thirty times. Waking up that early was worth it_ , she decides as she watches the other students scramble to grab a seat in the first rows. _Even more, if you consider that we are going to stay like this until the academy year ends._

A lock of hair falls in front of her face. She should have brought a hair tie, but they are too tight for her taste and she avoids them unless she doesn’t have any other option. She pushes her hair behind her ears, to no use. _Well, screw it_. She rummages through her bag until she finds the pencil and pulls her hair into a bun. A classmate, seated three chairs to her right, snorts and taps a guy who he seems to know on the shoulder, pointing at her. She pays him no mind – if he wants her to take his opinion on her appearance seriously he should start by changing out of the tracksuit. _But of course, he can go without half an hour before the mirror every morning without being considered unprofessional or shabby._

As she curses the double standards that are undoubtedly going to determine her future in the Force, Raquel hears the unmistakable sound of heels tapping closer. She looks up, curious. It’s not like she’s wearing flats, but coming to the first day at the Félix Jodra with what appear to be _stilettos_? That takes some balls.

This is the first time Raquel Murillo sees Alicia Sierra.

Her hair is the first thing that catches her eyes; fiercely red and seemingly natural, pulled up in a perfect ponytail. The next thing is the dress she’s wearing. Raquel hasn’t seen a dress code on the rulebook, but she’s pretty sure that wearing something that fits her so well can’t be allowed. She doesn’t see any of the redhead’s skin apart from face and hands, but she can guess the shape of each and every one of her curves. The unknown woman stops before her, tapping with the incredibly sharp heel of her gleaming boot. _Dear goodness, ¿how does she walk on that?_

“Hey, babe, mind exchanging seats?” Her voice is casual as if they were old acquaintances meeting up to have a couple of beers. Raquel decides that she dislikes this woman instantly.

“And why should I do that?” She answers with the most neutral tone voice she can muster.

“You see, I have this imperious need to be near the window because if I don’t I get anxious – but not too much because the sun makes me ill.” She emphasizes her words with ample hand gestures and a pout.

“Nice try, but I’m not gonna give you the best place in the whole class just like that.” The redhead smiles, narrowing her heavily lined eyes. All that excess kohl gives her a truly hypnotizing air.

“Well, well, so she _does_ bite. Give me a minute, I’m sure I can convince you.”

Raquel is half a second away from telling her to go screw herself when another student comes to stand before her table, pushing the other woman away with a sneer.

“How unusual, isn’t it? Two females talking in a completely inappropriate situation. Let’s clear a couple of things up,” he looks over his shoulder at a group of boys that cheer him on and points at Raquel with an unnecessarily smug smile. “You, piercing, that’s my seat. And you, redhead, I feel the obligation to inform you that exhibiting yourself like that doesn’t mean you’ll pass.”

Raquel is livid. All of the students she can see are chatting, but this guy just had to come and insult the only two women in the class. _I bet it isn’t a coin_ _c_ _idence_. Now what? He looks like the sort of guy who will dismiss her as hysterical if she dares to say something, and that’s not the first impression she wants to make.

“Shut the fuck up, buddy – you just lost the second-best seat in the class for being a sexist pig.” The redhead, to Raquel’s relief and horror, sits in the chair to her left. “Now shoo, the females want to talk before the class begins. Should I translate that to medieval speech or would you rather wait until the teacher comes to tell you himself?”

She stretches her leg and steps on him with the heel. Just like Raquel had suspected from the moment she saw that thing, it could definitively qualify as a weapon in case of emergency. For a moment it looks like he’s going to flip out, but the stares of the other students make him change his mind. He goes while muttering something that Raquel prefers not to hear. The redhead turns to her. _Great, she had to look like she’s escaped from a runway_. Raquel tries not to stare at her freckles too overtly.

“I am amazed. It’s only the first day and we’ve already discovered that the Police are recruiting time travellers.” An awkward silence falls over them. “I mean that because of that troglodyte.”

“Yes,” Raquel says curtly, in the hopes that she catches on and leaves.

“Come on, babe, I just made an enemy for having your back.” She offers Raquel her hand. “Alicia Sierra.”

Raquel looks at her, beyond the makeup and thuggish attitude. Her hand trembles slightly and the border of her mouth is reddened as if it’d taken her several tries to put the lipstick on. _She’s tried to prepare for the first day too, in her own way._ Raquel feels a slight stab of guilt for having judged her so quickly.

“Raquel Murillo.”

Alicia’s hand is cold and dry to the touch, with a delicate but firm grip.

“It’s a pleasure.”

* * *

“Professor.” Alicia’s voice is loud and clear through the headphones as if the clock’s hands had turned back to those endless Sunday mornings in the student apartment. Raquel tightens her grip on the paper boat to restrain herself from activating the microphone and telling her that the Osasuna has moved up to First Division before the Zaragoza.

“Inspector Sierra? How nice. I was looking forward to talking with you.” The Professor replies with a cheeriness that makes her grit her teeth. Alicia isn’t going to like having the same tactic used against Raquel reused with her. Not one bit.

“Yes, I know you like to negotiate with policewomen. Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m wearing?”

 _Very subtle, Alicia_. Sergio clears his throat.

“Maternity clothes, I presume.” _Whatever, Raquel, the whole ‘miracle of life’ thing sounds very quaint, but if you think about it for a while the process of pregnancy and giving birth is pretty much the same thing that the creature in_ Alien _does._

“You’re so antiquated! Are you one of those men who wear undershirts?” The Professor closes his mouth for half-a-second, most likely deciding the best way to push forward.

“Actually, I am, but… Inspector, the classics never go out of style. Don’t you think?” Raquel looks at the ceiling. _This is going to go like the last time I had the idea to criticise his wardrobe choices, isn’t it?_ “Also, you can look like Pablo Escobar in an undershirt or like Marlon Brando in _A Streetcar Named Desire_.”

Alicia snorts. _Does she remember the time we went to see it to the Teatro de las Esquinas?_ She’d enjoyed the play, Ali’s head on her shoulder, the popcorn they’d snuck in her handbag, but in the last years it’d become painful to remember. _Stelle is dumb and that’s that, Ali. Do you think that someone with two brain cells to rub together would stay with someone who treats her like that?_

“Touché. Tell me something. Have you ever filmed yourself making love?” Alicia stretches that phrase like it’s one of her damned chewing gums. Raquel’s blood freezes in her veins. She knows exactly where this conversation is leading, and she’s not ready for it. _As if she cares_. Alicia Sierra has always been a Molotov cocktail of sadism and good aim when it comes to hitting where it hurts.

“Let me think…” Raquel gestures, telling him to go straight to business, but the Professor is focused on the plan, certain that he knows and controls all the possible variables. “No, truth is, I haven’t. I guess I’ve always been too shy to suggest it.”

_He’s just handed it to her on a silver platter._

“In that case, perhaps I can help. Raquel! You’re listening to me, right? Raquel?” Sergio turns around and shakes his head frantically, but Raquel, _Lisboa_ , pays him no mind. She’s wearing the headphones and she’s sitting in the negotiation zone – if the Professor didn’t want her intervening he should have left her driving.

Plus, he hasn’t had the time to investigate Alicia. Raquel knows her like the back of her hand, with all of its lines and folds: her favourite cigarette brand and the ones she’s willing to smoke if there’s none of it left in the estanco, the list of songs that played at her wedding, the small wrinkles that appeared on her forehead when she slept. If someone can keep up with Inspector Sierra, that’s Lisboa.

“Hello, Alicia. It’s been a long time.” The police tent is silent on the other side of the line. Tamayo, Suárez, Ángel… Perhaps they’ve even called that imbecile Prieto. They are all listening to her. Now there’s no doubt as to what happened when Raquel Murillo didn’t show up in the precinct after her four weeks leave. Maybe they’ll reopen the investigation they made after the end of the Mint robbery.

“A long time, yes.” During the pause that follows those words, Raquel tries to memorize that nuance in her voice. Those may be the last words Alicia speaks to her thinking about Raquel (friend, companion in a thousand adventures) instead of Raquel Murillo (wanted criminal, a traitor to the cause). “I’m surprised the Professor has reservations about asking you to make a sex tape. You did it during your second year at the academy. With Ortigosa. Holy shit.”

* * *

_Alicia’s smell precedes her; that unmistakable mix of melon chewing gum and tobacco that makes her nose sting prevents her from screaming when she sees a figure standing at her bedroom’s door. Raquel rubs at her face with the pyjama sleeve and hisses at the feeling. Her eyes are puffy and irritated from crying, and she’s sure she looks like Hell just run her over. She tries to ask Alicia what she’s doing, but her voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. Her friend looks at her with a downturned mouth and leaves the room. Raquel wraps the comforter around her and lays her head on the dry part. She’d be convinced it was a dream, if not for the noise of the redhead’s heels down the hallway. Alicia comes back with a glass of water._

“ _Come on, Raquel, drink it. It’ll do you a world of good.” Raquel complies shyly, almost afraid that Alicia is gonna take advantage to scold her again. “Don’t worry about David, the second he runs his mouth I’m castrating him”_

_Raquel chokes on her water and coughs._

“ _Have you spoken to him?”_ Come on, Murillo, don’t tell me you are afraid your _girlfriend_ finds out. This is going to stay between the two of us. It’s not that serious, don’t get psycho with me, fuck, you must have seen there was a camera there.

“ _Not only that. I also took this.” She searches through the pockets of her trench coat and pulls out a cassette. “I thought you’d like to burn it yourself. You can keep it as a reminder if you want, for the next time you fall for a classmate.”_

 _Alicia leans over the mattress so she can give Raquel the tape without her having to even stretch her arm. On the one hand, she feels offended that somebody would think that she_ needs _to be taken care of, but… Alicia treats her like an art restorer would a marble statue: you know it’s not fragile but you can’t help being mindful of it._ God, that’s cheesy. _Raquel blushes in the darkness when Alicia’s fingers brush against hers for a moment longer than what’s necessary. She grabs the plastic case, warmer where Alicia’s hands were holding it._

“ _Are you sure this is the only copy?” Alicia makes a bubble, white and round like a full moon, and pops it._

“ _Babes, you know who you’re talking to, right?” Her friend’s voice is hard as granite._ Look, Raquel, Ortigosa is very nice and very cute and whatever else you want to say, but the only thing he’s gonna give you is a massive headache.

“ _Sorry, this whole business has left me a little bit paranoid.” Alicia sits by her side on the mattress and hugs her with almost excessive strength. Raquel bites back the joke about how the Academy training is beginning to have an effect on her; Alicia is not very given to initiate physical demonstrations of affection. She opts for burying her head on the other woman’s neck instead, inhaling deeply. Alicia’s hair smells like the night cold, even if her friend denies the existence of such a smell. When they separate Raquel has to suppress the impulse to beg her to stay like that a couple more minutes. In Alicia’s arms she feels safe, loved._

“ _It’s normal. Go to sleep, it’s four in the morning. Everything’s under control now.” Raquel knows that’s not true, but Alicia’s voice makes her want to believe it. Moreover, if she starts to think about it, she’ll have to ask herself how she’s managed to get a hold of that video in the middle of the night._

“ _I owe you one, Ali.” Alicia gives her the shadow of a smile. Raquel never knows whether the nickname bothers her or amuses her, but she never complains when Raquel calls her that._

“ _Nonsense. Get a better taste in men and we’ll be even.”_

_She leaves the room. Raquel thinks that maybe that’s not the advice she would have liked to hear._

* * *

“Alicia, you disappoint me.” Her voice doesn’t tremble. “I would explain how you’re following the negotiation protocol to a tee, but we’ve already sat through that lesson. If the bomb you were planning to drop has anything to do with my family, don’t even bother. The Professor informed me about the risks, and I decided to go through with it, but I don’t expect Tamayo to have the same level of trust or transparency with you.”

That must have hurt for someone who has spent twenty years fighting for her colleagues to look at her in the eyes and not the cleavage in reunions.

Ironic as it may sound, Sergio and Alicia are very much alike in their need for control. While the former is a born chess master, her friend is a fencer; she improvises, stabs at the first open flank in sight. It’s a method that has its advantages, but it comes with a major flaw: if you can’t keep your head cold, you are going to fall for every single feint.

“Well, I haven’t fucked the colonel.” Raquel inhales sharply, she feels light-headed all of a sudden. Alicia has taken the bait. She’s just given her the perfect cue to lay waste to her credibility. With a couple of phrases, she can kill two birds with a stone: gaining time and the Professor’s respect.

The morning after they’d promised they’d take the secret to the grave. _What is it gonna take for you to understand, Raquel? I’m never gonna hurt you. I’m not going to turn this into a_ _n_ _Uno wildcard that I can pull out to get my way next time we argue._

_* * *_

“ _You and I are invasive species in this place, babe. I’m a carnivorous flower. What do you think when you first see me? Better be careful. You disguise yourself, thinking that the harder it is to see you the better.”_

“ _And what should I do, according to you?”_

“ _Leave the fucking camo behind. I like the Raquel Murillo underneath.”_

_* * *_

“But you had sex with me. I’d say that’s enough to make up for it.”

Raquel breathes in, taking advantage of the silence that follows that declaration. Then everything is chaos. Tamayo shouts, Suárez replies something she can’t make out and somebody hits the table.

“Let’s all shut the fuck up, hostia!” If Alicia’s comments had been a stab in the back, Ángel’s voice is a punch right to the face. “Raquel, what was that for?”

He sounds resigned, the same way he had when Raquel consented to spread fake data on Andrés de Fonollosa: it’s the voice of Jiminy Cricket warning you that you’re going down the wrong road even as he knows it’s of no use. Another friend she left behind like one of the breadcrumbs children in fairy tales use to mark the way back home.

_You called me a cunt-eater, Ángel. Do you want me to believe you said that just because?_

“This is a very fucking low blow.” Alicia’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the kilometres without a problem. Sergio doesn’t react yet. “What you and I had was a night of love, Raquel.”

“And look how we’ve ended up. I wish I’d been brave enough to stay with you, Ali. I wish I’d known how to better love you.” She takes care not to add the reasons why they’d lost touch; the tug war between her friend and her husband, the unending fights, the possessiveness on everyone’s side. The fear of the unknown. _I can calm Alberto down, I know how to act to keep Alberto happy, I can try to lie to Alberto_. Memories are helium-filled balloons rising from her insides at full speed, they get stuck in her throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to leave you with the Professor. Now you two have something to talk about.”

Raquel turns her headphones off and crosses the curtain that separates the two halves of the motorhome blindly. She bumps her hip against something; she barely feels it over the numbness spreading from her chest. She needs to sit down, her legs are barely holding her up. Her ears are filled with white noise.

 _Strategically speaking, it was the right thing to do_. She has to think that and focus on the almost mechanical voice of the Professor in the distance. _How many more funerals for my life do I have to hold?_ If you pick at a scab continuously, can it scar? And even if it does, what does the mark left look like?

After some minutes that drag on like an eternity, the Professor takes off his headphones and stands up. Raquel doesn’t move a single muscle. There’s a list of ways in which he might react racing through her mind, each scarier than the previous one. She looks down and laces her fingers tightly. The Professor’s shoes appear in her sight, brown, with a worn but polished toe.

“Raquel, how are you?” Raquel raises her head. The one speaking to her is Sergio, his eyes filled with worry. She stares at his hands, square and calloused, but able to fold a piece of cardboard with the greatest efficiency in the world. Those same hands that are flitting like birds now; adjusting his tie, opening the button on his jacket as he sits down, pushing his glasses up, picking at the pen on his pocket. Raquel has a mental archive where she keeps tabs on all of Sergio’s eccentricities and she’s used to this one. This is what he does when he’s looking for the logical solution to a problem, the sequence that indicates brain and heart are about to separate. She can’t allow him to do this, to hide behind his glasses and say words designed to hurt her that he must have rehearsed in his head at least three times since she said she was going to be part of the heist.

“Aren’t you going to demand an explanation? I never told you I liked women too.” _Shut up, Raquel, are you looking for trouble?_ In moments like this Alberto’s voice liquefies and takes advantage to filter through the cracks in the drawer where she keeps it until it floods her mind. The mattress dips by her side as Sergio sits down slowly, as if the slightest of movements might scare her away. She wants to laugh, who is this panicky animal, and what has it done with her?

“It’s none of my business, Raquel. Inspector Sierra has tried to get to you using the… well, the bond you two had, it’s logical that it affected you. The most important thing now is asking if I can do anything to help you.” Raquel gapes at him.

Sergio pushes his glasses and squares his shoulders, that means he’s about to keep talking, but Raquel interrupts him with a hug so tight it wrings a surprised sound out of him.

“Thanks, cariño.” She feels his hand rubbing circles on her back, the heat of it through her shirt as real and human as the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead and the scratchiness of his beard. Raquel’s mind comes down from the cloud of nostalgia and adrenaline where she’d been dragged to. “Having your support is enough.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He’s right. Raquel supposes she shouldn’t feel so relieved by a perfectly normal answer, but there’s a part of her that doesn’t quite get used to being treated with such tenderness without having earned it. _Someday_ , she promises herself.

“How was Alicia?” Sergio clicks his tongue, a gesture halfway between the Professor and her partner.

“She seemed rattled.” _Good._

“After this, they’ll have to interrogate her, so we have a few hours to plan the next move.” Sergio arches a brow and Raquel sees the cogs turning behind his eyes, the way his mouth twists when he understands she hadn’t revealed that information spontaneously.

“It wasn’t necessary to sacrifice your privacy for the Heist, Raquel.” Sergio and the Professor supersede in those words: it’s both an affirmation from a worried companion and a test from her captain.

“Would you say that if I were anyone else?” She breathes in. She’s always gonna have privileges in the gang, whether she wants it or not, but the Professor must stop seeing her as a souvenir from the robbery, the only piece left to finish the puzzle and frame it. She won’t stay in a trophy case until he wants to show her off or move her to the attic. “The Raquel Murillo Alicia knew would have never stood up to her. She’ll be angry, unstable. For better or worse. We won’t have another chance like this.”

She doesn’t say that the Alicia she’d met at the Academy would have never tortured a boy. She doesn’t want to lie, even if it hurts to admit she let herself be swept off her feet by those red lips and glass eyes. It’s not that she didn’t know there was something sinister lurking under the surface of the lake; she’d just convinced herself it was better not to look.

Sergio stands up and straightens his tie. The Professor is back.

“Take five, Lisboa. We are going to go over our negotiation strategy and I need you. Awake.” Raquel grins at him, _don’t you think I haven’t noticed that pause_ and lays down. Being on the other side of the law is exhausting.

* * *

“ _So, do you want to meet up again?” Raquel pretends to think about it for a moment._

“ _Sounds alright to me.”_

_In this first week Alicia Sierra has turned out to be a very particular seam of knowledge. For example, she can’t learn the rights of someone who has been arrested by heart but she knows the general content of each and every article in the Constitución with just hearing the number. She’s also a passionate debater, able to get anyone on her side. Raquel knows that getting the men in her class to see her as a regular police officer is going to be complicated, and closing ranks with the only other woman won’t help her at all. However, she is certain of one thing. Alicia Sierra is the most skilled person in her class, and that’s all that matters to her._

“ _Same hour, then. You know, I didn’t think I’d find someone like you in this place.” Raquel raises her brows._

“ _Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?”_

“ _Depends on your stance on_ fascinating _.” Raquel shakes her head and snorts, fighting against the grin that threatens to split her face in two. They pay for their beers and head out of the_ Granero de Teruel _. Raquel says goodbye at the cross with Pérez Galdós._

_She’s barely walked a few meters when she feels the irresistible impulse to turn around to see how Alicia walks away. When she looks, she finds the redhead’s dark eyes as she smiles around an unlit cigarette. She closes her hand around the lighter and waves her hand with a knowing smile as if they shared an inside joke. Raquel turns around abruptly and practically takes off, her face burning in sharp contrast with the cierzo._

_She is aware that she is escaping from something, but she isn’t willing to stand still and find out exactly what._

**Author's Note:**

> That's it for tonight's show, folks. I hope you liked it. Take care and stay safe <333


End file.
